A Collection of Criminal Minds Oneshots
by nebula2
Summary: Well, just like it sounds. Each story is inspired by some scene from an episode. Come in and join the adeventure!
1. Extreme Agressor: Instincts

_**Disclaimer: Don't own Criminal Minds or the characters and sadly never will.**_

_**AN: So, I got inspired by Graveygraves "Series 6 Oneshots" (great collection so far you should check it out) and decided to do my own collection of one-shots based on something from Criminal Minds episodes. The first one is from the first episode but I'm not promising to do one from every episode just as something inspires me, though I do plan on keeping them in order. Hope you all enjoy.**_

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><p><em><strong>Morgan<strong>_**: Next time show a little leg.**

_**Elle:**_** Morgan, the only time that you're going to see a little leg from me, is when I'm about to kick your ass.**

_**Morgan:**_** I still teach hand-to-hand over at Quantico if you need a little brush up training.**

_**Elle:**_** Seriously, I want that opening at BAU. Got any advice?**

_**Morgan:**_** Just trust your instincts.**

FBI agent in training Derek Morgan stood on the sideline of the gymnasium mats with most the rest the current class. On the mats, two of their classmates were currently engaging in a sparring match. A match meant to prepare them for their test in hand-to-hand combat the following day, when their instructors would get to see how much they had learned so far.

Trainee Morgan wasn't concerned about it. He was already a black belt in judo. This part of the training had been a snap for him, and he had yet to lose a sparring match to one of his fellow trainees. Not that much of the program so far had caused him too much problems, his years on the Chicago Police Force having prepared him well, even though it did mean that he was a few years older than a majority of the trainees who had decided to join the FBI right out of college. Not that it mattered. He wouldn't give up his years in the Chicago PD. He had learned a lot and that knowledge was helping him now, and he was sure it would serve him well once he graduated the academy. However, now he felt that he could be of more help to society than just trying to keep the peace in his own city. Not to mention, he needed to get away. As much as he loved his family there were too many bad memories in Chicago.

Besides, it wasn't like he was the only one who had chosen to come to the Academy after putting in time doing something else. One of the female trainees currently involved in the sparring match had done likewise. He had spoken with Elle Greenaway briefly a couple of times. Morgan knew she was from Brooklyn, and knew that she had been a beat cop for the NYPD before coming here. However, where he hadn't lost a sparring match, Greenaway had yet to win one.

Watching the match unfolding before him, Morgan could see what her problem was. The technique was there, and no one could fault Greenaway with not having paid attention. At the top of the class in many areas of the training, hand-to-hand was turning out to be her kryptonite. A point that was driven home as Trainee Madison pinned Greenaway to the mat once again.

"Okay class," SSA Watkins said, as Madison got to her feet. Greenaway sat up on the mat but stayed there, her attention focused on the instructor, just like all of her fellow trainees. "We'll call it a day. I'll see you all tomorrow afternoon at fourteen hundred hours for the test. Female trainees will go up against SA Crane, while the rest of you get to face me. Any questions?"

Watkins paused, glancing around at the gathered group of trainees. When no one spoke up, he spoke again.

"You're all dismissed."

As his fellow trainees headed for the locker rooms, Morgan stepped onto the mat. Stopping in front of Greenaway, who still hadn't gotten to her feet, he held out a hand to help her out. With a lopsided smile, Elle Greenaway put her hand in the one offered to her, and let Morgan help her to her feet.

"Thanks," she told him. "Somehow I don't think tomorrow afternoon is going to be a day for me to shine."

"I might be able to change that. I was watching the sparring match. I know what you're doing wrong," Morgan told her.

"Oh, do you now," Greenaway said. "Not exactly one of your smoother pick-up lines there, Trainee Morgan." As she was watching him, she saw the surprise that crossed the man's face at the light-hearted jab. "I saw you at the bar last week when you went out with some of the other guys. It seemed like you can be quite a charmer to most girls but I'm not most girls."

"That's for sure and I wasn't trying to pick-you up," Morgan told her, cringing as the words came out of his mouth. The look on his fellow trainee's face told him she was taking those words exactly how he was afraid she might. "Not that you're not attractive, it's just it's one of my survival rules - never date a woman who carries a gun."

Elle Greenaway continued to look at the man skeptically. She wasn't sure if she believed him or not. Although, she had to admit, if he really did know what she was doing that was causing her to lose on these sparring matches, maybe tomorrow wouldn't turn out to be such a fiasco after all.

"So what am I doing wrong?"

"You're over thinking it. While you're trying to figure out in your head what your opponents next move will be, they're already making it. You need to trust your instincts."

Standing there, looking into the dark orbs of the man before her, Elle Greenaway contemplated what he was telling her. ~_He just may have a point_, ~ she conceded.

"I've got some free time tonight if you want me to help you get some more practice in," he added.

"I thought you weren't trying to pick me up?"

"I'm not. I'm offering to help a fellow trainee. So do you want my help or not?"

"At this point I'll take any help I can get," Elle conceded.

"Six o'clock?" Morgan asked. Elle nodded. Morgan smiled once again. "Does this mean I'm forgiven?"

Elle smiled back at him mischievously. "Only if I win my match against Agent Crane, tomorrow."

Morgan smiled and knew he was all but forgiven. Greenaway had the skills and potential to beat every other female cadet in the program, with a few pointers he was confident she could hold her own against their female instructor. All she had to do was trust her instincts.

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><p><strong><em>AN: What can I say, that scene always gave me the feeling that Morgan and Elle knew each other beforehand and this is my take on when and how they met. Hope you enjoyed it!<em>**


	2. Compulsion: Learning Curve

_AN: Definitely one of my shorter pieces but I like how it went. For those of you who have been reading my story "Eternal Changes" this will make sense to you. For those who haven't here is my take on a few things, to help set the setting for this story. In Memoriam there are articles that Garcia finds that say that Reid was 22 when he joined the BAU, and in "Plain Sight" they celebrate his 24th birthday. Gideon is also quoted in that article about Reid joining the BAU - thus I have Reid joining the BAU right out of the academy. The FBI has a 2 year probationary period for new agents and in "Eternal Changes" I have Hotch assigned as Reid's probationary agent, which would end right after Reid turns 24, so in this story Reid is still in his probationary period.**  
><strong>_

_**Prompt : Hotch:**_** Reid, since you're more their age, why don't you do the talking.**

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><p>Hotch stood at the window of his office looking down at his three agents in the bullpen. Elle was standing over Morgan's shoulder, both agents looking at something on the computer screen. At his own desk, Reid sat, his head bent over whatever it was he was currently working on. The senior agent's eyes lingered on Reid.<p>

Reid's twenty-fourth birthday was coming up soon, which meant the young genius was coming up to his two-year anniversary of being a FBI agent. That whole time was limited to his experience here in the BAU and Hotch had seen Reid do a lot of growing over that time period. Had watched him battle self-doubt. Watched as he battled the horrors that all of them faced on this job. Saw him go from getting sick at the sight of a dead body to being able to lean in close to one, examining it for the method in which the victim had died.

It had been his responsibility to guide Reid through these two years of his probationary period. To point out the young man's mistakes and make sure he learned from them. To instill in Reid all the policies and procedures of the bureau. With his eidetic memory, remembering them all was no problem for the young agent, but it fell on Hotch to make sure he realized how important those policies and procedures were to the smooth running of the bureau. Important in ensuring the well being of every agent and those they were trying to protect, while at the same time making him realize that sometimes the book just didn't have all the answers. Sometimes, bending the rules became necessary but that you had to be prepared to handle the consequence of doing so.

Still, he hadn't quite reached that two-year mark yet. Reid was still a probationary agent. It was still his responsibility to prepare Reid for anything this job could possibly throw at him and so he had told Reid to talk to the science students on their last case. It didn't really have anything to do with him being close to his age, but more that the one area Reid needed work on was addressing groups. Giving a profile to members of whatever law enforcement agency they were helping out happened on every case. As of yet, Reid hadn't participated in many of those simply because Hotch knew he hated talking to groups. Still, it was part of the job. He owed it to Reid to help him build up the self-confidence to present the profile to a group of people, no matter how small or big it happened to be.

As he had listened to Reid stumbling over his words, Hotch knew that wasn't going to be an easy task. As the young agent had gotten more and more flustered, and the college students had looked about ready to start laughing, he had known it was time to step in and save Reid from further embarrassment. Still, he knew it wasn't over. Somehow, he needed to exposed Reid to talking to groups more before the end of his probationary period.

~_How can I do that without casing him too much embarrassment? He's capable of doing it, he just needs to build up confidence_, ~ Hotch pondered, still watching the young agent working at his desk.

At his desk, Reid looked up and looked in Morgan's direction. Apparently, Morgan had asked him something or said he had something to show him, as Reid got to his feet and headed toward the older agent's desk.

Suddenly and idea came to him. He knew how he could give Reid an opportunity to address a group in an environment where he knew no one was going to laugh or tease the younger agent if it didn't go well.

Stepping away from the window, Hotch headed for the door. Leaving his office, he strode in the direction of JJ's office. Briefing cases was part of her job description but under the circumstances, Hotch knew she wouldn't mind letting someone else do a few. He also knew that JJ would help the young genius prepare to give the briefing, and just as he had at the college, she would step in and save him if necessary.

Getting Reid through his probationary period had been his responsibility but he hadn't borne that burden alone. Thanks to the wonderful agents they had worked with these past couple of years, he had received continuous support in the effort. Nor would they all stop looking out for Reid and just because the bureau said his probationary period was over with. The agents of this team would continue to look out for him and teach him what he needed to know, just as Reid would continue to add his own contributions to their efforts. Hotch knew he worked with some of the best agents in the bureau, and that each and every member of this team had one another's back.


	3. Plain Sight: Search Engine

**Reid: You should see what comes up when you type the word death into a search engine.**

**Morgan: Reid, no wonder you can't get a date.**

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><p>Derek Morgan sat on the end cushion of his couch. His German Shepherd, Clooney, was taking up the rest of the couch. The dog was sprawled out, his head resting on Morgan's leg.<p>

Morgan sighed as he got yet another voice mail. Flipping his phone closed, he tossed it lightly onto the coffee table. Seconds later his little black book followed. He had called every name in the book that he was still on speaking terms with and everyone was busy, had a date, wasn't feeling well, not answering or in one case now engaged.

~_I've got to remember to mark Bree's number as no longer available, _~ Morgan thought as he leaned back and scratched Clooney behind the ear.

Here it was a Saturday night, and he, Derek Morgan, couldn't find a date. For the first time since he had started it in college, his little black book had failed him. Sitting at home alone did not suit him. Oh, sure he could go hit some random bar and within twenty minutes find some little sweet thing to cuddle up with, but that wasn't what he was looking for tonight. Bars were loud, and he didn't want loud tonight. All he wanted was to enjoy a good meal and some intelligent conversation at a nice restaurant and then maybe some extra curricular activities in a more private setting.

Morgan let out another sigh. Apparently that wasn't going to happen tonight.

~_This is probably some sort of curse for making fun of Reid's inability to get a date, _~ he mused, glancing down at his watch. The night was still young and he had to find something to do. ~_Though Clooney would probably be quite content to have me stay here and be his pillow, _~ he thought, looking down at his peacefully sleeping dog.

The memory of his quip about Reid not being able to get a date, triggered the memory of what had set that moment up for him._ "You should see what comes up when you type the word death into a search engine._" Morgan couldn't think of anyone else he knew that would actually do that, just to see what would come up but then Reid wasn't like anyone else he knew. The younger man was like a sponge with water when it came to knowledge, soaking it in just as fast he could.

Morgan looked over at his home computer sitting on the desk. He was bored and Reid had piqued his curiosity. Exactly what would come up if he typed the word death into a search engine. It wasn't as if he had any other pressing plans tonight.

Slipping out from under Clooney's head, for which the German Shepherd gave his owner a dirty look, Morgan got to his feet and crossed over to the computer. He flipped it on and sat down in the chair. Resting his chin on his left hand, he drummed the fingers of his right hand on the desk top as he waited for the computer to boot up.

~_If the others knew I was doing this, I would never live this down_, ~ Morgan contemplated as he waited. ~_Especially Reid. As much of a hard time as I give the kid for knowing trivial information, if he knew he got me curious enough to actually do something like this he would probably give me a whole list of words to type into a search engine. What they don't know about though, they can't give me a hard time about._~

Finally, the picture of Elle, Reid and him talking at their desks in the bullpen that Garcia had sent him was showing on his desktop. Clicking on his browser's icon, he was soon on the internet. Putting the cursor in the box for the search engine, Morgan typed the word 'death' and hit return.

The results were soon up on his screen and Morgan started scanning them. There was of course the link to the Wikipedia page on death. Next came a page entitled 'The Death Clock'. Wondering what it was, he clicked on the link to find a page asking you to enter certain information and it would tell you the day you were going to die.

"Yeah, right," Morgan muttered, clicking the back button.

Next, he saw there was a page about death from the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. ~_Reid probably read that entry_, ~ Morgan thought as he continued to scan the list. He glanced briefly at the five images of death that showed up on the page. Feeling that he saw enough of that kind of stuff at work, he didn't bother exploring further. He found another page for a death clock, a Myspace page for a music group that called themselves death. There was a list of articles in which the word death appeared. Next was a Wikipedia page for the DC comic character Death, then a page entitled the 'Death Penalty Information Center' giving information on the application of the death penalty to the United States.

Morgan clicked the link on the page from the National Park Service about Death Valley National Park, spending some time glancing through the information. ~_If I ever get around to taking a vacation that might be an interesting place to see_, ~ Morgan contemplated as he went back to his search results page.

Continuing to look through the results, he came across another page that immediately made him think of Reid - 'FASTSTATS - The leading Causes of Death'. ~_The kid probably has that page memorized by this time, _~ Morgan thought, as his eyes continued down the page. A page on poems about death caught his eye, making him thinks of their last case._ ~But it wasn't a poem it was a ballad the UnSub was using_,~ he told himself, idly.

Morgan's cell phone rang. Letting go of the mouse, he got up and walked back toward the coffee table. Picking the phone up off the piece of furniture, he looked at the screen seeing Reid's name flashing.

Morgan flipped the phone open. "Hey, Kid."

"Hi Morgan. What are you doing?"

Morgan hesitated answering. He turned and looked at his computer as he thought about how to reply to that question. "I don't think you would believe me if I told you," he finally said. "Why?"

"I was wondering if you wanted to go grab something to eat someplace. If you don't have other plans that is."

"Sure. I don't have any other plans for the night," Morgan replied. ~_Though it isn't from the lack of trying_,~ he added silently, thinking of all the previous calls he had made that night. "I'll pick you up shortly, Kid."

"Okay. I'll see you then."

Ending the call, Morgan returned the phone back to the clip. He walked back to his desk, and shut down his computer. After saying a quick good-bye to Clooney, Morgan headed out to his car.

_~Well, this definitely isn't the date I was hoping for tonight, but a meal with Reid definitely beats continuing to look through that list,_~ he thought, pulling the driver's side door open and climbing behind the wheel of his SUV.


	4. Broken Mirror: Top Secret

**AN: So, first off - I've never been to a professional football game let alone the Redskins home stadium. I did try to do a little research on the subject and I hope this whole situation seems plausible. Please, don't yell at me for any tiny mistakes related to the stadium or the game of football in general. I tried my best.**

**Also you still have time to nominate your favorite CM stories for an award for : **

**~*~ Profiler's Choice 2011 Fanfic Awards for the Criminal Minds Community ~*~**

**Hosted by ilovetvalot and tonnie2001969**

_It is our pleasure to announce the Second Annual Profiler's Choice Fanfic Awards for the Criminal Minds community!_

_The nomination ballot is now available, and all rules are posted on Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum! Nomination ballots must be received by October 15, 2011 and must be sent to this PM at Profiler's Choice CM Awards. Fics for consideration must have appeared on the CM section of between September 1, 2010 and August 31, 2011 (see rules for full details.)_

_Please read all rules prior to submitting ballots! Please PM at Profiler's Choice CM Awards with any questions._

_**Prompt:**_

_**Morgan**: So what happened with you and JJ at the Redskins game, huh?_

_**Reid:** Top Secret._

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><p>JJ pulled the Maroon and yellow football jersey over top of the grey thermal shirt she was already wearing. Her brother had bought here the jersey as a birthday present. Not knowing what player was her favorite he had gone with the safe bet, Mark Brunell - number eight and currently the Redskins quarter back. Grabbing one of the nearby Washington Red Skins ball caps, she placed it on her head and pulled her ponytail through the hole in the back of the cap. Looking in the mirror, the blonde was satisfied with the game day look. Even with it being near the end of October, and colder weather was starting to set in especially at night, she felt she would be dressed warmly enough. Just in case she grabbed a zip-up Redskins sweatshirt from her closet.<p>

A knock at the apartment's door drew her attention. JJ picked up her cell phone, sliding it into her hip pocket as she walked. Reaching the door, a quick peak through the peep hole told her who it was. She slid the security chain out and opened the door.

"Hey, Spence!"

"Hi JJ. Are you ready?" Spencer Reid asked nervously, grinding the toe of his right foot on the tile of the hallway floor.

"Just about. Come in a second," JJ told him, stepping aside. She took in her friend's appearance as he did so. He wore his normal grey winter coat, with a scarf wrapped around his neck. Dress slacks and brown loafers completed the visible outfit. "Please, don't tell me that you're wearing a dress shirt and tie?"

"What if I am?" Spencer asked, as JJ closed the door behind him.

"Spence, it's a football game. Even if you don't wear one of the team's colors you should dress casually. We're not working. Why didn't you wear something comfortable?"

"I find these clothes very comfortable and I didn't wear a tie."

JJ smiled. "Do you even own a pair of jeans?" she asked as she walked to the counter where her purse was sitting.

Reid opened his mouth but no sound came out as he tried to figure out why JJ was asking him about his wardrobe. He didn't get it. Why did she care what he wore to the game?

Having reached the counter, JJ opened her purse and quickly retrieved her wallet. She slipped it into her back pocket and zipped the purse. Turning she contemplated her companion's outfit. There wasn't much she could do about the shoes and pants, and his long winter coat covered the dress shirt he was undoubtably wearing. She doubted she would get him to part with the coat as he had been complaining about the cold for the past week or so. The purple scarf however, she could do something about.

"Let's get you a bit more in the spirit of things," JJ said, strolling across the room to her bedroom. She grabbed another Washington ball cap and retrieved her maroon and yellow scarf with the Redskins logo on it and returned to where Reid still stood just inside the door.

Reaching up, JJ fitted the ball cap on his head, and removed the purple scarf and replaced it with her own.

"There. Now you look like you belong at a football game," JJ told him, taking a step back to admire her handy work. It was then that JJ noticed Reid was holding a book in his left hand. "What's that?"

Reid looked down at the book. "Some reading for the train ride to FedEx Field," he told her trying to hide the cover of the book.

JJ reached out and moved his hand so she could see the title - The Basics of Football: How to Understand and Enjoy the Game.

"No," JJ said firmly, taking the book from him. "Have you ever watched a pro-football game?"

"Um, not really. I mean I know a bit about it from talking with Morgan - did you know he played in high school and college?"

"No, I didn't."

"Oh, well anyway except from what he's told me, which wasn't much - I think he got frustrated trying to explain things to me as he was trying to watch a game - I know nothing about the sport. I figured it would be good to at least know the basics for today."

"Agreed but you're not taking this book with you," she told him, holding the book up before tossing it onto the coffee table. "I'll answer any questions you have on the train ride there or any that might come up during the game, okay?"

Not seeing how he really had a choice, Reid nodded.

"Are you ready?" JJ asked.

"Yeah," Reid replied. With one last longing glance at the book, he followed JJ out of the apartment.

The pair made their way to the train station and it wasn't long before the duo was heading to the Redskins' home stadium where they would be taking on the San Francisco 49ners. JJ kept her end of the bargain and the ride was passed by football talk. As they disembarked the train, the scarf Reid was wearing snagged on something. JJ managed to free him, but as they walked away from the train and headed toward the stadium, Reid noticed there was now a hole in the maroon and yellow scarf.

"I'm sorry. I'll replace it, of course."

"Don't worry about it, Spence," JJ said, patting his shoulder as they walked out of the station.

The rest of the walk to the stadium was made in a comfortable silence. Upon reaching the stadium, Reid and JJ got into a line at the correct gate. As they waited, Reid went to get the tickets out of his pocket, only to find they weren't there. Not saying a word to JJ he started looking elsewhere for the tickets. He knew he had grabbed them this morning. He pulled out his wallet and checked in there - no tickets. Having eliminated that possibility, he started looking through other pockets.

"Is something wrong?" JJ asked, having noticed the frantic search along with some of the other fans gathered around them.

"Um . . . " Reid said, not sure how to tell JJ he may have forgotten the tickets. Even he could tell how much she was looking forward to this game. If they didn't get to see it because he had . . . suddenly his fingertips brushed against something hard and smooth in the inside pocket of his coat. Grasping the object, he pulled it from his pocket and sighed in relief when he saw they were the tickets. "No, no problem," he told her, giving her a sheepish smile.

JJ smiled back at him, and then looped an arm through one of his as the line moved forward. The duo made their way through the gates and up into the stands to their seats. JJ was ecstatic at the seats they were in. They were on the home side of the field and the seats of the VIP box were much more comfortable than the general admission tickets that she had watched the games from previously.

By the time the game kicked off, JJ and Reid both had sodas and big yellow number one fingers. While JJ was on her feet, waving the yellow, foam hand in the air as the Red Skins got ready to receive the kick to start the game, Reid sat quietly in his seat staring and contemplating the yellow monstrosity that he held in his hands. When the ball had been returned to the Skins own forty-yard line, and the new players took to field, JJ sat down in her seat.

"Something wrong, Spence?" JJ asked, seeing the contemplative on the young man's face.

"I just don't get the point of these things," he said, lifting the foam finger up and managing to hit JJ across the face with it. "Oh, I'm so sorry," he said quickly realizing what he had done and dropping the object. The foam finger fell to the ground.

"It's not a problem. They're not that hard," JJ said with a smile. "As for their purpose - they're to show your support for your team. You know - 'yeah, you guys are number one'." As she said the words, JJ held up her own foam finger and waved it.

"But they're not number one right now," Reid said practically. "They're not leading the standings, I know I checked last night, nor are they number one in this game as it just started and there is no score."

"Spence, in a fan's mind their team is always number one no matter what the statistics say or how bad they might be playing."

"That doesn't make any sense."

JJ gave him a sweet, patient smiled. "Not everything makes perfect scientific sense. This is one of those things. It's an emotional response to something that we love."

Reid tipped his head slightly to one side as he thought about her words. "Just relax and enjoy the game Spence," JJ said, as she looked down at the field to see what was going on in the field. She reached out and patted Reid's knee in support.

The unexpected touch caused Reid to jump slightly. His hand hit JJ's cup of soda in the cup holder between their seats and knocked the cup out of it and onto JJ's lap. With a gasp of shock, JJ stood up quickly.

"I'm so sorry," Reid said quickly, standing as well. He looked around for something to mop the soda up with but didn't see anything. "I'll go get some napkins," he told her.

"It's okay. I'll just go to the ladies room and clean up."

"I'm sorry," Reid said again.

"It was an accident, Spence. Relax."

As JJ left the seats, Reid flopped back down in his own. He definitely wouldn't blame JJ if she didn't come back and just left him sitting in the stands alone. This was so embarrassing and when the rest of their teammates found out about it the jokes would never end.

Reid's eyes fell on the spilt cup and the soda on the ground near the seat. He reached down and picked up the cup before leaving the area in search of a way to clean things up some. By the time JJ returned, her jeans still showing the damp stains from the soda, Reid had gotten the ground mopped up, though it was still sticky, and had replaced JJ's drink.

"Reid, you're in my seat," JJ commented as she made her way past other spectators and down to where he was.

"I know. You can have my seat. It's less sticky," he told her.

"Thanks."

As JJ sat down, he handed her the yellow foam finger. He had disposed of his, the soda having soaked into it a bit. Not that he had any use for the stupid thing anyway.

The rest of the first quarter was uneventful. Reid tried to watch the game but it just didn't catch his interest. Why would any idiot want to play a game where the likely hood of you getting tackled or colliding with another person just as big as you were, was close to one hundred percent? Even with the padding, some of those hits had to hurt, especially when the end result was the player hitting the ground with almost at least one hundred and seventy-five pounds of someone else coming down on top of you. He had been thrown to the ground enough times growing up and he definitely had no desire to experience that by choice. ~_Football players must be masochists and deluded. They probably think they're ten feet tall and bullet proof_.~ Reid thought, cringing as San Francisco's quarter back, Alex Smith, got sacked on the third down.

As the players on the field changed as they set up for the kick, Reid realized that anything he thought of football players would apply to Morgan. As he thought about it, the description wasn't too far off from the impulsive older agent. Not that he would call Morgan an idiot, but to this day, Morgan still seemed to enjoy kicking down doors and tackling the UnSubs.

~_Guess it takes a certain type of person, _~ Reid said as JJ's cheers sounded in his ears. Reid took in the situation on the field to see that the players were lining up with the Red Skins closer to the goal they were heading toward than the one they were defending.

"You okay, Spence?" JJ suddenly asked, bringing him out of his thoughts.

"Yeah. I'm fine. The Red Skins are winning, why wouldn't I be?" he replied trying to sound upbeat as he waved in direction of the scoreboard.

JJ smiled and then went back to watching the game.

When half-time came Reid was more than ready to escape the stands. Not only was he bored, stiff from sitting in one place so long - JJ might feel comfortable with jumping up and cheering but Reid figured even if he felt the urge to do so that he would upset something or someone - and was starting to fill a bit chilled.

"What do you want?" Reid asked JJ as the two stood in the concession line waiting to get food.

"A hot dog with the works," JJ replied, without missing a beat.

"Do you know what hotdogs are made from?" Reid asked. He was about ready to launch into the explanation without a response from JJ when he felt a hand on his arm. He stopped and looked at JJ.

"I really don't want to know, Spence," JJ said, her voice taking on an almost apologetic tone. "I like the way that they taste. I don't want to think about what it is I'm actually eating."

"Sorry," Reid said. He realized that he had been saying that quite a bit today._ ~JJ is never going to want to spend time with me again._~

The two of them got their food, Reid ordering a hamburger and JJ getting fries with her hotdog, and headed back to their seats. Reid didn't miss the way that JJ had quickly grabbed for the carrier with their order in it but remained quiet. He didn't blame her. She probably didn't want to wear another soda or their dinner.

Somehow, Reid managed to eat the hamburger without any major catastrophes. He did somehow get mustard on the knee of his slacks but at least it was on him and not JJ.

"Don't rub that in too much," JJ commented as he wiped the mustard from his pants. "I know just how to get that out," she assured him.

Reid didn't reply as he crumpled the napkin in his hand. He looked down trying to hide the flush of embarrassment he felt as the heat rose in his cheeks. The start of the third quarter took JJ's attention from him.

Reid tried to focus on the game. To show some interest in the sport that JJ so obviously loved.

"You're not having a good time are you?" JJ commented as the third quarter came to an end.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to be obvious. Guess this just isn't my sport."

"Do you want to leave?"

"No!" Reid said quickly. "I've already dropped a soda on you. I don't want to be the reason you miss the end of the game. Besides, Gideon was nice enough to buy these tickets for me, it wouldn't seem right if I didn't stay for the end of the game."

JJ smiled. "You're one of the sweetest guys I know, Spence."

Reid felt himself blushing again. He hoped the chill from the air had turned his cheeks pink enough that she wouldn't notice. JJ looped her arm through his and leaned her head on his shoulder as the fourth quarter started. Having the blonde that close to him made the game a lot more enjoyable for him as he tried once more to concentrate on the game.

San Francisco was once again able to score in the fourth quarter after the Red Skins added yet another touchdown to their score. Still the ten to fifty-two gap in the points seemed insurmountable and fans began to leave - some disappointed in the inevitable outcome and others confident that their team was added another win to their record. Even the next touchdown didn't help San Francisco out much and Reid found himself watching the game clock, which now within the final two minutes didn't seem to want to move. He suddenly understood what people meant when they said that the final two minutes of a football game are the longest two minutes you'll ever experience.

He glanced over at JJ about to suggest that they leave. Once look at the rapt attention with which she watched the field and Reid knew he couldn't go through with it. He crossed his arms in an attempt to feel a bit warmer. The movement caught JJ's attention.

"We can leave," JJ suggested.

"I don't want you to miss the end of the game."

"It's fine. There is no way San Francisco is going to score five touchdowns in the last minute," JJ said getting to her feet. "Come on."

Not able to think of any protests, and wanting to leave anyway, Reid got up and started to follow. As they started down the steps though, Reid's foot slipped on the metal step. He grabbed frantically at the railing to keep from falling. He did so, but managed to bump JJ who slipped herself. The blonde's quick cry of pain was like a knife to his heart.

"JJ, I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

"Mostly, though I think I may have twisted my ankle," JJ replied as she grasped the railing to help pull herself to her feet.

Reid reached out to help her as a stadium employee rushed over to them, echoing Reid's previous question. JJ tried putting weight on her sore ankle, and quickly decided it was a bad idea. Leaning on both the stadium's employee and Reid, JJ let herself be helped to the stadium's first aid station to get the ankle looked at.

"I'm so sorry," Reid said again, looking forlornly down at JJ's ankle, which rested on an ice pack.

"It's fine, Spence. Things happen. Stop beating yourself up over it."

"I'm such a klutz."

"You are not. It was an accident. It's not like you pushed me."

"I might as well have," Reid said so softly that JJ didn't hear him.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," Reid replied quickly. "I'll go call Gideon and see if he can pick us up. There is no way you're going to be able to walk to the metro station on that ankle. I'm not sure how I'm going to explain what happened though."

"Easy. I slipped and sprained my ankle. That's all the information anyone needs."

"I'm sorry this was such a disaster of an evening."

"I had a wonderful time. I got to enjoy a great game with a friend who is sweet enough to sit through the whole game even when he isn't enjoying it. That's what I'm going to remember about the evening, Spence."

"Really?"

"Really."

"But when the others find out . . . "

"Who says they need to know? What we do in our free time is our own business. All of the little mishaps that happened today stay between me and you."

Reid smiled. "Thanks JJ," he told her. "I'm going to go make that phone call," he told her and started walking away. He also planned on having Gideon try to convince him to get JJ to get the ankle checked out despite her current protests.

As for his reply when people asked about this outing, Reid already knew what his reply would be - top secret.


	5. LDSK: Vote of Confidence

**_AN:Okay, so here's my one-shot for LDSK. I almost skipped this episode as I have a few other stories and one in the works based off this episode but this is my favorite episode so here is yet another one. Hope you enjoy it._**

**_Disclaimer: Criminal Minds isn't mine nor is the dialogue of Hotch's that I repeat from the episode_**

_Prompt: "No, keep it. As far as I'm concerned you passed your qualification."_

* * *

><p>Reid paused outside the door leading into the firing range and stared at it. Two weeks had passed since he had failed his re-qualification - the first time he had failed to pass a fire arms drill since the academy. Oh he had come close before but he had never failed since becoming an agent - until two weeks ago. The sting of that failure was still sharp.<p>

Even less time had passed since he had shot Dowd. Gideon had been right that had eventually hit him - along with the pain of the bruised ribs he had suffered during the stand-off with Dowd. He'd killed a man. He had taken a life and though ever graduate of the Academy knew that they would most likely face that situation at some point in their career, nothing prepared them for the reality of that situation. Gideon's words to him on the flight back had helped him work through the conflicting feelings that had surfaced. He really hadn't had a choice. Reid knew that if he hadn't shot Dowd then the nurse would have shot not only him but also Hotch and everyone else in that room. Put in that position again, he had no doubt that he would pull the trigger again.

So now here he was, ready to attempt his handgun qualification again. If he failed again today not only would he be letting down his team and himself but Morgan would be merciless with the teasing. Reid didn't think he would be able to show up at the BAU if he didn't pass today.

Taking a deep breath, Reid stepped forward and grasped the door handle. Standing around was getting him know where. Walking through the door, he let the breath out slowly. He could do this.

~_Front sight, trigger press, follow through._~

The words echoed in his mind. Hotch had said those words countless times over the past week, as he had spent more time at the firing range with Reid. Despite now being a new father, Hotch had still been willing to continue tutoring him - after he had let the unit chief down the first time.

It wasn't long before Reid had signed in for his qualification and was following Agent Saunders, one of the agents in charge of the range, toward the station he would use for his test.

"That isn't your usual gun, is it?" Saunders commented, not really needing an answer to the question, recalling that Reid had made his last qualification attempt with a Glock 17, which definitely wasn't what he had with him today.

"Um, no it isn't," Reid commented, looking at the Glock 26 as he placed it on the shelf in front of him in preparation of the test session.

"Switching guns might not be the best choice for you."

"I've had some success with this gun," Reid commented, once again recalling the incident with Dowd. This was the gun that he had shot the UnSub with. Hotch's back-up piece, which the older profiler had insisted that he keep both times he had tried to return to it. He had been practicing with it for the past week though he wasn't sure why. He didn't expect the gun to magically fix his aim that wasn't practical, but something about the feel of the baby Glock in his hand felt comfortable.

"A good luck charm, huh" Saunders asked, with a shrug of his shoulders. "I've seen stranger ones over the years."

Reid thought about Hotch's words the first time he had tried to give the gun back outside of the hospital. _"No keep it. As far as I'm concerned you passed your qualification."_ Those words had echoed the confidence that Hotch had in him when he had devised a way to get the back-up piece to Reid. It didn't offend him that Hotch had gotten the other hostages out of the line of fire - that was standard operating procedure and nothing personal. What had stuck with Reid was that despite the fact that he had just failed the handgun re-qualification that hadn't stopped Hotch from trusting his ability and using it to their advantage against the UnSub. That act had overshadowed the words Hotch had said, because true or not Reid couldn't deny that they hadn't hurt.

"Not so much good luck as a vote in confidence," Reid replied easily.

Agent Saunders had just nodded as he made sure everything was ready for the qualification attempt. Once that was done the older agent stepped back, donning the ear protection. "Whenever your ready, Agent Reid," the agent said with a gesture toward the target.

Reid nodded. He donned his own safety gear, picked up and loaded the Glock 26. The genius took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He could do this he knew but this time around he knew something he hadn't the last time - the outcome of this one session didn't determine his place on the team. He still had skills he could offer to his team with or without a gun on his hip. As he reminded himself of that, he felt a weight slip from his shoulders.

A quick glance over his shoulder to make sure that Saunders was in a safe spot, and Reid raised the gun, his attention now focused on the black target in front of him.

"Front sight, trigger press, follow through," he told himself silently as he slowly squeezed the trigger.


	6. The Fox: A Step On My Own

_**AN: This is a little Hotch/Reid oneshot I wrote for Dragon. I hope she likes it. It fits in with the idea in my story "Eternal Changes" that Hotch supervised Reid during the two year probationary period all new agent's in the FBI go through.**_

**Prompt:**

**Reid:**** Y-Y-You want me to talk to him?**

**Gideon: ****Yeah. You've done other interviews with agents running point. You can go solo.**

* * *

><p>It didn't take a profiler to see that Reid was nervous about interviewing Eric Miller alone. His body language screamed that fact to anyone watching him, which included every member of his team. He didn't protest the assignment, though Hotch got the distinct impression that part of him wanted to.<p>

Though Reid was now officially past his probation period, the two-year mark having been passed shortly after the Dowd case, Hotch still felt a responsibility for the younger agent. Maybe it was because of the two years that Reid had been his probationary agent or perhaps it was simply the fact that the other agent was so young. Or maybe it had to do with the fact that Reid hadn't grown up with a solid father figure in his life, and Hotch knew from experience how hard that could be. Whatever the reason, Hotch felt it fell on him to make sure Reid went into this interview feeling confident. Like Gideon, he knew the young genius was ready to do a solo interview, he just wasn't so sure that this was the suspect to be cutting his teeth on.

Morgan and Gideon were the first two out of the conference room, off to the Crawford residence. Reid and Elle were next, heading to their desks in the bullpen. Hotch followed them touching Reid's shoulder gently as they stepped out of the conference room to get his attention.

"A word, please," Hotch said, when Reid looked over his shoulder at him. Hotch nodded in the direction of his office.

With a single nod, Reid started in that direction, Hotch easily falling into step beside him.

Reaching the office, the older agent pushed the door open, motioning Reid inside the room first. Entering the office, Reid stopped a few steps in and looked nervously around. Pulling the door shut behind him, Hotch took in the younger agent's demeanor. Hoping to put the young man more at ease, he gestured toward the black leather couch. "Have a seat."

Silently, Reid followed the instruction. Reid sat stiffly on the couch, placing the files he carried in his lap and resting his folded hands on top of them. Hotch sat down next to him.

"Gideon wouldn't ask you to do this if he didn't think you were ready," Hotch told him.

Reid looked up at his superior. "I know," he said. Though there was time when he would have hesitated admitting any doubts to any of the agents he was working with, he had learned shortly into his probation period that Hotch expected him to do just that. The older agent had explained to him that it was part of the learning process shortly after being assigned to supervise Reid during that two-year probationary period. The former prosecutor had assured him that it was just part of the learning process. "But what if I mess the interview up - don't ask the right question or miss something in his body language? What if I can't get him to talk?"

"First off, don't worry too much about the nonverbal tells. Elle and I will be watching for those from outside the interrogation room," Hotch informed him, steadily holding Reid's gaze, though he noticed that the younger agent broke eye contact from time to time, his eyes darting to spots in the office. "Secondly, nobody is expecting perfection. Just do your best. Try to establish a rapport with Miller and get him to open up to you. He may do so, he might not. Miller hasn't said anything to the local authorities so there is a chance we won't be able to get him to talk either. As for asking the right questions, there is no set rules on what those questions are. Each situation is different and you know the guidelines the bureau has for conducting interviews. Rely on them and you'll do fine."

Reid nodded, grateful for the impromptu pep talk. Knowing policies and procedures was quite different from actually putting those guidelines to use. Reid, just like every new agent before him, had learned that quickly.

"You won't be alone in there either. The agents escorting him here will be there too. And if you feel like you're in over your head, signal for help. That's one of the reasons someone is always outside watching the interview."

"Got it," Reid replied, that assurance going a long way to ease his nervousness. "I have to admit though, it sure would have been easier if my first solo interview wasn't with someone quite so . . . intimidating."

"You survive this and anything else afterwards is going to feel like a walk in the park," Hotch told him. He knew Gideon didn't believe in easing an agent into a situation. Though he would never put a younger agent at unnecessary risk, he believed in pushing them to bolster their self-confidence. Hotch had to admit he agreed with the practice.

Still, part of him was uneasy about sending Reid in to do this interview solo. Though watching each other's backs was part of this job, Hotch had to admit he tended to be much more protective of the young genius, even more so after the case with Dowd. Though he knew none of them would have probably gotten out of the situation alive if he hadn't done what he did, his words and actions toward Reid had hurt. He'd spend hours at night, either at home or on a case, replaying events and trying to figure out what he could have done differently to avoid that situation. So far a solution still eluded him. Hotch knew that he wouldn't stop soul searching anytime soon, though. He wanted nothing more than to be able to protect Reid from being in a situation like that again.

Reid nodded, his body language showing a little more confidence than when he had come into the office.

"I can do this. I'm ready," Reid said out loud, though Hotch had a feeling the words were more for Reid than himself.

Hotch reached out and briefly gave the younger agent's shoulder a squeeze.

The brief talk over, Reid got to his feet and headed out of the office. Hotch watched him go, wondering if this was how a parent felt when their child finally left home. As much as he wanted to protect Reid from any dangers this job threw their way, he knew that was impossible. He couldn't be with the younger agent all the time. Couldn't protect him from all the unknowns any more than a parent could completely shelter their child from harm, a realization that had gone through his head as soon as he held his newborn son in his arms. Little Jack was going to grow up and once he started to walk even his and Haley's best efforts wouldn't be enough to keep him from bumps and bruises. And the older Jack got the bigger those dangers would be.

Hotch had spent two years teaching Reid the ins and outs of this job. Had helped the young agent learn how to put everything he had learned in the Academy to use out in the field. Hotch knew he had done his best to prepare Reid for this job. Still it was moments like these when he knew he would wonder if he had done an adequate job. Was there some piece of knowledge that he had forgotten to impart that Reid would one day need?

Getting to his feet to follow Reid, Hotch knew that there probably would. Training taught you a lot but experience was always the better teacher though sometimes a harsh one. Reid just might need a buffer between him and experience in this case and Hotch planned on being nearby if that eventuality should arise.


End file.
